Callsign Northern
by Sheppard SD
Summary: [5/12] Following the Sargasso Station's capture by the Cornerian Defense Force, Lord O'Donnell has no permanent base of operations. The only option is to take it back, but launching a siege against it at full strength is failure waiting to happen. Well, that's something a quitter would say. Let's go boys.
1. Part 1

— §§ — Part 1/3 — §§ —

* * *

"And so the valiant soldiers loyal to the dream of Lord O'Donnell barrel recklessly into the heart of the enemy stronghold," the lion spoke proudly, spinning out of his seat at the helm of the transport. While adjusting his glasses, the green pigment in his eyes sparkled as he stepped down the shallow set of stairs to the hold of the ship where his four partners sat. His pale fur and nearly buzzed head became illuminated in the fluorescent light of the hold, while a smirk of confidence creased his maw.

"A death mission incarnate," he continued, pacing across the metal floor. "Dare I say a suicide mission? No, I dare not say it. What I dare say is that this mission will solidify our leader and visionary Lord O'Donnell's reign over space itself! And seeing the impossible before him, he chooses an _intransigent_ team to defy and revolt against Corneria's tyrannical rule by spearheading the counteroffensive against his captured shelter! Oh, a scene fit for an epic indeed! A mission set to live on in history as the ultimate defiance of odds! The penultimate chapter in Lord O'Donnell's quest of power, rule, and leadership!"

"Is this really necessary?" the gray wolf on his left questioned, evidently annoyed by the lion's monologue. He looked to see the wolf's piercing blue eyes knife through the façade he tried to build.

The lion looked over with restrained exasperation, lowering his voice to an almost murmur. "Austin, have you ever heard of a pep-talk?"

"This is far from a pep-talk; this is an attempt at self-glorification."

"Oh, sure, being optimistic is grossly self-indulgent on my part."

"Look, all I'm saying is—"

"No, no, please go on about how I'm a disgusting narcissistic sack of shit."

"Ryan," Austin merely shook his head when he caught the lion's ingenuine tone. "You've _actually_ never done this before. I'm just asking why now?"

"Why now?" the lion narrowed his eyes and smirked. "Why _not_ now is the real question?"

"Because staring death in the face just _screams_ monologue."

"Guys, he's ruining my moment again," the lion complained to the other side of the room, hiding his smirk pretty well.

"I'm with Austin here," the fox sitting next to the wolf mentioned, hiding under his beanie while almost biting his tongue as he spoke.

"You know it's bad when Austin and Michael agree on something," the llama's rich voice piped in from the other side of the hold.

"Yeah, why can't you just let Ryan have his fun?" the golden retriever beside him chirped in a sort of subtle nasal tone, finally looking up from the tablet in his lap.

"Ryan is capable of having his fun without the expense of us," Austin argued.

"Implying anyone is being expended aside from yourself," added Ryan with a smug undertone.

"I'd beg to differ," answered the wolf, implying the fox beside him. The fox Michael just lifted his beanie up slightly.

"Michael hasn't gotten up-in-arms as you have, and silence does tend to have affirming qualities."

"Hey, I'm right here!" Michael flicked his hands in frustration. His voice was naturally younger sounding already, but his complaint made him sound like a proper preschooler. The retriever's wheezy laugh punctured the ensuing silence.

Speaking to Austin, Ryan folded his arms and scoffed, "So let me get this straight: it's cool if you interrupt my fun, but the moment I do the same to you, it becomes a problem?"

"My fun doesn't grate the ears," commented Austin. "My idea of fun is, oh, you know, actually completing our assignment, not stroking your already inflated ego."

"How are you guys not backing me up right now?" Ryan questioned the other side of the hold.

"No, no, I'm with you here," the llama quickly replied. "I think it's perfectly reasonable to speak highly of the situation at hand, you know, given the circumstances."

"I am still _stunned_ at the collective overreaction here," Ryan belted with the retriever giggling and wheezing in the background. "I'm the confident leader spreading said confidence to the rest of his crew with an informative and uplifting speech. I'm _empowering_ my crew. Is there anything wrong with this picture, Austin?"

"I've said my share," the wolf calmly rebuked. "The collective overreaction is personified with yourself making a scene out of it."

"Well how else am I supposed to garner energy and determination out of my squad?"

"I think that's your own problem to figure out," Austin chuckled to himself. "The confident leader you are should be more than capable of doing so."

"I was doing so until you interrupted," deadpanned Ryan.

Austin shook his head. "Fine. I'll just keep my mouth shut."

" _Mmmm_ ," Ryan began with the tone of a spoiled middle-schooler mixed with a rather mocking and extrapolated sneer of a confident nerd as depicted by the school bully. "I'll be at the, ah, _shooting range_ if you'd fancy to improve upon your _potato_ _aim_ with me instead of _defiling_ my ears with nonsensical _prose_."

Austin merely rolled his eyes.

"As I was saying," Ryan turned around. "The best of the best has assembled to complete a seemingly impossible mission. A mission that holds the fate of Lord O'Donnell's entire empire!"

He took a few steps and put a hand over his chest. "Myself, Ryan, captain and commander of this multifariously talented team will be the level-headed and strongly willed head of the proverbial machine. A leader needs a plethora of skills and unparalleled quick wit to not just survive, but thrive in situations where the _self-proclaimed_ leaders fail. No, this is not a jab at any of you."

"Hmm?" the retriever hummed, lifting his muzzle out of his screen.

"Could have fooled me," murmured Austin.

"Hey now," the bald lion gently concurred.

"I appreciate the respect," the llama grunted.

"Was that a subtweet?" Austin questioned.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" sarcasm tainted his reply so much that Austin rolled his eyes.

Ryan then turned to the llama. "Robert! Persuasion personified; the voice of an angel and the coercion of a dictator. Lord O'Donnell knew you could single-handedly sell a broken promise as if it were gospel, and here you are now, waiting to let your talent loose."

"I'm liking the intensity," Rob smiled. "What else? Say something else!"

"He's also the one responsible for eating my lunch in the break room a few days ago but, _mmmm_ ," Ryan adopted the sneering tone again, "I never bothered to, ah, indicate ownership."

"You haven't lied yet," Rob shrugged.

"Going down the list," Ryan announced triumphantly, "The dog of gold, the codebreaker wizard, the reality-checker himself," he bent over to the retriever and lowered his voice. "It's Nick, how's it going?"

The retriever Nick snickered to himself. "These nicknames aren't sticking, are they?"

"Moving right along," Ryan ignored his question, spinning around and looking the fox dead in the eyes. "Michael the fox, the reigning, defending, undisputed champion of espionage. The one that will never take that goddamn beanie off his skull. The—"

"Hey, I never insult your head, leave mine alone," Michael whined, pulling on the ends of his knit hat to force his ears flat.

"You do have a very insultable head," Rob commented with a laugh.

"Yes, I know this," Ryan sighed, rubbing his head almost self-consciously. "You guys really don't have to keep bringing it up."

"You started it," Michael reminded.

Ryan stayed quiet a moment before stepping over to the wolf. "Austin… the marksman, the gunsmith, the ace in the hole, the keen eye… the danger seeker… Promise me you won't blow something up unless I tell you."

"Is this about over?"

"This group!" Rob stepped back and outstretched his arms to the cockpit. "This group of legendary talent will not fail Lord O'Donnell. Lord O'Donnell does not deserve failure! He deserves total victory! What will the future hold for these five _intrepid_ specialists of Lord O'Donnell's arsenal? …Today will be our answer, my friends."

Silence overtook the hold for a few moments.

"Is… is he done?"

"Austin, show Ryan a bit of respect," chirped Nick.

"I respect him when he's not melting my ears with word-vomit."

"Word-vomit?" Ryan took exception to this comment. "Listen here, as I said _countless_ times before, I am motivating my crew to preform at their best before we enter the snake's pit. Call it a call to arms, if need be."

"Sure, fluff up your tirade all you want."

"You're just jealous Lord O'Donnell didn't put you at the head of the group."

"Look," Austin calmed down a touch. "Nerves are high, I just need to calm my mind before we start. Having you talk is _actually_ mind-flooding me."

" _Mmmm_ ," Ryan's sneer elicited grins from the other three. "Just gimme a second to defragment my mind palace," he tilted his head and gave his trademark sneer a robotic undertone. " _Mmmm_ , processing answer database, searching for retort."

"You seriously aren't helping."

"Hey Ryan," Nick butted in. "Isn't that Sargasso there?"

Ryan spun around to see the behemoth of a space station shrouded in the debris from the Meteo Belt. It didn't look any different from when they saw it last. Though, there was an eerie undertone about it. There was a shared sense of dread, however miniscule it might have been.

Metaphorically driving headfirst into the snake pit.

"And into the fire we go," Ryan nodded his head as he approached his center console. He scaled the steps but stopped as he got to the top. His crew were uncharacteristically quiet… They usually kept a conversation going despite the leader not being present, but the opposite situation hovered over the hold of the ship as if the shadow of doubt swallowed the life out of everyone. He exhaled and looked over his crew in the hold of the transport all literally looking up at him; silent, lost, and antsy.

Rob's eyes kept darting from person to person, trying to gauge the feel of the hold but obviously not understanding what it truly was. His smile felt forced at times, and when he realized it was, it faded away almost instantly. Nick's care-free and cool posture he prided himself on was tense and stiff as if he was learning to drive for the first time. Michael acted more jumpy and argumentative than usual, with the former being of concern to Ryan. He didn't want his saboteur flipping out at something so miniscule in hindsight. Austin usually stayed quiet in most situations, but being so adamantly vocal did open Ryan's eyes as much as he didn't want to admit it.

Seeing his crew act so fundamentally different to what he was conditioned to forced a switch on in Ryan's head. This wasn't an escort mission for Lord O'Donnell's army, nor was it a siege on a Cornerian transport fleet. This was a grenade into the heart of the machine. A fox in the coop. Nothing could really compare to how important, yet how dangerous this mission was. Ryan only tried to mask it and blow it off as a routine mission, complete with the """overbearing""" introduction and pep-talk. His crew knew, but he didn't want to think any different because that would throw off the routine. It would ruin the usual docket. The fact that this was far from the usual docket made him truly realize the gravity of the situation.

Ryan had to suppress the face-palm he wanted to give himself as he pursed his lips. "All jokes aside," he started in a much more calm and respectable demeanor. "The four of you motherfuckers have the chance to be the change you want to see in the world. You can sit back and let the mission fail, or you can help one another, play to each other's strengths, and work as a team; a unit… I want us to be more than good here. I want us to be the best goddamn squadron Lord O'Donnell has ever commissioned."

Austin nodded. "Now this is much more acceptable."

Ryan smirked. "So, with that being said… let's complete this mission the only way we know how. By… being completely incompetent and somehow managing to successfully complete our assignments. Aye?"

In amongst laughter, the four replied, "Aye!"

The communicator in the transport's dashboard crackled to life. "Transport, you are encroaching on CDF occupied territory. State your identification and intention."

Ryan cleared his throat and sat in the pilot's seat, with Nick unbuckling himself to take the copilot's seat beside him. A smug smile on his face, Ryan obliviously replied, "Oh good deity above, there _is_ a station out here. Can I ask where I am?"

"You're approaching Sargasso Station, transport," the other end replied sternly. "State your identification and intentions."

"My crew and I escaped the fight near Sector X," Ryan replied, glancing at the screen Nick showed him. "Our main vessel was destroyed, we just barely escaped with a small shuttle. Our instruments are damaged and we're running on fumes. We just need help."

"A survivor? What's your identification?"

Ryan took his finger off the device. " _Mmmm_ , I require adequate identification," he joked to Nick, who just wheezed in reply. Answering the controller, he said, "Callsign _Northern_ — crew of five; myself included. We're requesting refueling, repairs, and rest. The three essential _r_ 's as I like to call them."

"Ryan," Austin called out disapprovingly.

"No, that's not one of them," Ryan smirked.

"You know what, I—"

"Your crew is not enlisted under CDF databases," the speaker replied.

"Nick," Ryan rolled his eyes at the retriever. "I thought you were good at this."

"Listen, I never promised anything," Nick retorted, getting back to work on his device. "Give me a minute."

"If I had a minute to give, I wouldn't even bother giving it to you at this rate."

"Then say something to him already! Just buy me a bit of time."

Ryan turned back to his console. "Our records aren't in yet. We were… accepted for patrol a few days ago, but the home servers were undergoing maintenance. They must not have updated them yet, unfortunately."

"Good save," Rob laughed to himself.

The controller fell silent for a few moments before responding, "Your request has been conditionally approved. We've opened Hangar Two for docking. Please report to the presiding commander when available."

"Much appreciated," Ryan replied. "I'll try to guide her in." As he closed the connection, Ryan turned around to the cabin. "Michael, break something."

"Huh?"

"Our instruments are damaged."

"No they're not."

" _Mmmm_ , conditional approval, please disfigure distance radio transmissions," Ryan sneered.

"Uh…"

"Don't make Austin do it."

"You're telling me to willfully damage our ship?"

"I _will_ you to damage our ship."

"It's like Michael's wet dream," Rob commented from behind the conversation.

"Hey, don't even talk to me like that," Michael unclasped his harness and approached Ryan. "So… break it."

"Absolutely."

"I don't see how this will help—"

"For goodness sake Michael, we need something broken so that they won't get suspicious!" Ryan flung his arms up in audible frustration. "This isn't going to work unless we do something! For crying out loud; I'm over here looking like the idiot telling my own crew to sabotage our ship and you're sitting there like " _oh, well, we really shouldn't damage our own ship because it'll cost us money to repair_ ;" what of it? This isn't even our ship!"

Rob couldn't contain his laugher as Michael stumbled around the cabin in distress.

"Well what do you want me to do then?" Michael retorted.

"Just, pull a wire or something," Ryan insisted. "Chew on the cords, rip out the paneling, shoot a hole in the fuselage; I honestly don't care; so long as something gets broke!"

Austin crossed his legs. "And here I was thinking I'd be the punching bag."

Michael crawled over to the control panel and looked underneath the dashboard. Ryan and Nick both flinched and fled the cockpit as a laser shot ripped through the main panel. A plume of smoke followed the two as they backed out and watched the smoke-filled cockpit with mixed emotions. Nick looked like he was on the verge of busting a lung while Ryan stared with morbid curiosity. A deep whirr sounded from within the dashboard, which slowly dulled until it fell flat. When the smoke cleared, Michael stood up and looked at his handywork, smiling with his tongue hanging from his maw.

"Michael."

"What?"

"You blew a hole through our control deck."

"You told me to break something."

"I didn't say blow a hole through our control deck." Ryan's shock turned into relatively placid anger, with his tone remaining flat and expressionless much to the surprise of the others. Nick was too busy wheezing with laughter.

" _You_ told _me_ to break something," Michael emphasized.

"Oh, let's just rip a hole through, like, _the only useful thing_ _we really need_."

"Hey, you told me to—"

"That's because I thought you would tear out a few wires or something!"

"Then you should have been more specific!"

"I _was_ specific!"

"You _actually_ said you didn't care."

" _Mmmm_ , fox, I _implore_ you to mutilate, ah, the only functioning device Ryan could have theoretically employed in piloting operations."

"Don't even _Ryan-voice_ at me," Michael whined back. "I did what you told me to do so don't get pissy."

"See, if it was Rob doing the dirty work," he looked over to the llama struggling to not bust out laughing. He just shook his head and deadpanned, "…Wouldn't even have to ask."

"You. Told. Me. To. Break. Something."

"Ah, yes, please tear an _unfixable_ gash through the entirety of my workstation because I instructed you to."

"All correct."

"Has it occurred to you that I needed that control panel working to be able to dock the ship?"

"You're not _landing_ , you're being pulled into Hangar Two right now."

Ryan looked behind him to see the hangar bay of Sargasso almost swallowing up the small transport. The steel framework within soon greeted the crew's eyes as the transport gently set down just inside of the energy field airlock.

Michael pocketed the murder weapon and stuck the tip of his tongue out. " _Mmmm_ , I understand how docking works," he replicated Ryan's sneer, to which Nick, Rob, and Austin started to crack up. "I'm Ryan, uh, _extremely Ryan voice—"_

"Don't even _extremely Ryan voice_ me," Ryan sighed. "I'll admit I was wrong this time, okay?"

"He says _this time_ ," Nick murmured.

"Yes I said _this time_ ," Ryan retorted to a wheezing Nick. "And don't you forget it." He then stepped away from the crew and approached the back bay door. "So, last call. Everyone's uniform fit?"

"My neck is cold," commented Rob, scratching at the wool on his neck.

"I… would say that's your own fault but you have no control over your biological nomenclature," snickered Ryan.

"Nomenclature refers to the name, not the specie," Nick corrected.

"Look, I'm not a scientist."

"Biologist, you mean."

"Nick."

"You said the wrong word."

" _Mmmm, the words you utter are incorrect, idiotic plebeian_ ," sneered Ryan.

"The one who holds the doctorate should know the difference better than a glorified hacker."

Ryan just sighed and continued on. After adjusting his glasses, he opened the hatch, which whined in a low, grinding whirr. Before he got out, he stopped… An idea…

"Austin."

"Oh no," the wolf sighed.

"I have an idea."

"Did it hurt?"

"Not as much as it'll hurt you."

"What do you mean?"

"Just… just trust me here. And please… don't get mad at me."

"Asking to _not_ get mad at you should be a pretty big indicator that what you're about to do will make me mad."

"Not necessarily…"

"And how do you think that?"

"I'm just asking you to trust me here…"

"Implying I've never trusted you before?"

"This is different…"

"How much different?"

"Austin, can you stop talking?" Ryan started to get antsy himself. "Look, I'm trying to end this scene on a good cliffhanger; you're extending it too far."

"Oh… Sorry."

"Joke's ruined now."

"Well it's you're fault for being vague."

"Being vague is what garners _intrigue_."

"I don't think you should _intrigue_ your team here."

"Austin you're killing the joke."

"Can't kill what's not there."

Ryan just shook his head.

"So…" Austin cocked his head. "What are you planning here anyway?"

* * *

— §§ —

* * *

Sargasso Station primarily found its niche as a shipping depot, used for long-distance shipments across the ends of Lylat. Within the bounds of the Meteo Belt, Sargasso rests in the heart of interplanetary travel lines, making it an incredibly useful depot for storage, rest, and—as of recently—a prime outpost for the Cornerian Military to be able to act upon any disturbance. Yet, as its function still remains a shipping depot, the open and spacious hangar bay housed many a cargo frigate, with crates upon crates of materials and supplies stacked as far as the high ceiling would allow. A massive claw sat attached to the high ceiling, much like a shipping depot for cargo ships on the sea.

Two Cornerian soldiers walked up to the recently docked ship and assessed their notes. This ship was an older model of the transport shuttles used to travel from one frigate to another in the overall fleet. The five aboard were not accounted for in records, but had reason to believe their allegiance. The two peered into the open transport, and after seeing nothing of note, stepped into the shuttle. A smell wreaking of an electrical fire filled the two Cornerians' noses. They stepped through the thin haze in the hold of the ship to find nobody aboard.

"How many are supposed to be here?" the smaller soldier asked?

"Control said five," the larger replied. "Check the cargo hold; they might be gathering the rest of their gear."

"These models don't have a cargo hold," he answered as his partner stepped into the cockpit area. "This is it. But there's nobody here—you sure this is the right ship?"

The larger soldier saw the burning hole in the control deck, noting that whatever hit it also fried the ship's log and the distance radio transmitter. As he looked around, he saw a note stuck to the back of the pilot's seat. Curious, he peeled it off and read the message.

 _ **Your first mistake was believing me — Northern**_

"Son of a bitch," the soldier growled, throwing the note away. "Call Control right now; code—"

The parked ship erupted into a fireball, expelling shards of sheet metal all throughout the hangar. The blast knocked about a dozen or so Cornerian soldiers to the ground, with a few of them being swept off their feet and thrown at least twenty feet. The fuselage blew soon after, shaking the entire station and creating a plume of dark smoke that obscured the entire area. Half of the hangar bay was engulfed in flames fueled by the resulting scatter of burning fuel.

Austin pocketed the remote as he turned to his team with a smirk.

"Austin…" Nick began. "Are… are you okay?"

"Of course I am, why?"

"The ease at which you did that was troublesome."

"Not hardly."

"Well, not necessarily troublesome, but _worrisome_ would be a better descriptor."

"Why?"

"The fact that all five of us were on that ship not two minutes ago should be telling."

"Look, I like blowing things up," Austin defensively replied. "And Ryan gave me the _okay_ , so…"

"I'm still fearful of your intentions."

"My intentions of…?"

Ryan stepped ahead. "Okay, listen up. As far as they are concerned, we're dead. So, while we're aboard, don't call attention to yourself, blend in as best you can, and we can continue with phase two, okay?"

"We're _dead_?" Michael questioned.

"Well, we're not _alive_ ," Ryan replied honestly. "We're in a thousand burning pieces out there. Hypothetically speaking, obviously."

"So hold on, let me get this straight," the fox began, his voice progressively getting angrier with every word. "You blew shit at me for destroying your control deck, when you were just going to blow the damn thing up anyway?"

Nick stifled a wheeze.

"It wasn't my idea," Ryan dismissively answered.

"You still let it happen!" whined Michael. "You knew it would happen but you still got mad at me!"

"I wasn't mad, okay? I was disappointed in your careless behavior."

"But in retrospect, you know you were making a scene out of something unimportant."

"Listen, I thought I still needed the control deck to land the ship in the hangar," Ryan explained defensively. "I admitted I was wrong earlier, okay; I'm not doing it again so soon after the first."

" _MMMM, extremely Ryan voice_ ," Michael started, instantly getting cut off by Ryan.

"Don't do the voice."

"I need to."

"I don't think you need to."

"I deserve to after this."

"Look, Michael—"

" _MMMM_ —"

"Michael."

The fox giggled ever so slightly and murmured in a highly mocking version of Ryan's sneer, " _S'cuse me, but do these glasses make my head look like an egg?_ "

Nick wheezed in harmony with Austin and Rob's laughs, which Ryan tried to hush down to no avail.

"Michael, look what you've done," Ryan said disappointedly.

"Worth it."

"Hey, now, guys, quit laughing for a second so I can talk to you," Ryan pleaded.

"I mean, your head does look like an egg," commented Rob.

"Irrelevant. Look, we—"

"I can't unsee it now."

"Robert."

"What? I'm stating what's already been stated."

"Michael said that as a _joke_."

"And the joke was funny because it had elements of truth."

Ryan sighed. "Does my head really look like an egg?"

"I was just teasing," Michael started. "Honestly—"

"It does," Nick interjected.

"Yeah," Michael quickly tacked on. "Yeah, it does."

"Well that's a piece of pointless trivia I didn't need to know," sighed Ryan. "But seriously, guys, huddle up. Time to talk phase two…"


	2. Part 2

— §§ — Part 2/3 — §§ —

* * *

" _Attention Sargasso personnel_ ," chirped the intercom system above. Ryan and crew looked up to the video boards around the food court, which displayed a text version of the same message. " _Hangar Two will remained closed for the foreseeable future to conduct repairs on damaged instruments and machinery. All cargo shipments will be redirected to Hangar One and Three. Hangar Four will remain for exclusive usage from the CDF Interceptor teams._ "

"That's one way to decommission a hangar," Rob remarked.

"Our job is far from over," reminded Ryan, cleaning off dust from his glasses. Upon putting them back on, the world of Sargasso opened back up to him. The central hub had a massive common area to it, with at least a hundred Cornerian soldiers in identical attire swarming about. There wasn't anything special or standout-ish to the common area, since it only served for functionality under Venomian occupation.

A handful of stations served food in the corner where the mess hall and expanse of tables resided. The team of five held their table without drawing attention. To the Cornerians, they were just part and parcel of the massive military presence on Sargasso. The uniform synonymous with the Cornerian Military—consisting of an off-gray jumpsuit with the CDF insignia embroidered on the shoulder, a dull royal blue energy-absorbing vest, similarly colored boots, and a helmet branded with the given soldier's name and rank on the forehead—made Ryan and his team seem like just another group of guys, even though the means of which they obtained the uniforms were sketchy at best. The green HUD visor accompanying all CDF suits made it even easier to blend into the battalion. Luckily this part of the base was naturally louder, and most people didn't bother to note any loud groups. This made it seem more like one cohesive unit, blending together into the machine. Ryan smirked to himself. _If only they knew_.

He had to admit he admired the scene. Not necessarily a sense of adoration, but more of a sense of respect. He respected their team; their unit. Hundreds of Cornerians, countless Cornerian subspecies, all from different backgrounds and classes, all sharing the same banner and allegiance… it was awe-inspiring. Nothing was similar personally, yet everyone felt connected. Here, differences were cast aside to promote a sort of team unity.

 _Team Unity_. He liked that name.

"Like I went over, there's a handful of jobs we need to complete before we can open the floodgates," Ryan continued, careful not to let his voice get too unruly. Not often was he paranoid, but in a situation where one wrong move or word would put him in a literal sea of hostility, he didn't want to take his chances. "I'm not gonna go over it here, so if you guys didn't pay attention, that's tough luck. Hey Nick, can you get access to the plans of this station? Like where the servers and control rooms are?"

"On it," Nick nodded, immediately typing away on his tablet.

Ryan nodded as well. "Michael, Austin; know where you two need to go?"

Michael nodded while Austin's reply was distorted beyond comprehension. Ryan looked up from the tablet when the crunching of paper followed the unintelligible response.

"Austin."

The wolf looked up from his basket.

"Is that a chicken sandwich?"

With his mouth still full, Austin nodded, still holding the sandwich with a vice grip. "I was hungry," came a muffled excuse.

"Where'd you even get that?"

Austin pointed over his shoulder with his free hand. "They kept the old smokehouse open over there."

"That's from the old smokehouse?"

"No Ryan, I brought it from home and kept it in my suit," Austin quipped sarcastically.

"Our mission directive wasn't for sandwiches," Ryan breathed.

"Mine was."

"Because gods forbid I get in the way of Austin and food."

"Damn straight."

The lion rolled his eyes. "Michael, do you know what you need to do?"

"Can I steal a fry?" the fox's lowered voice asked the wolf to his left, essentially ignoring Ryan completely.

"Go for it," replied Austin. Michael giggled and gingerly peeled a couple fries from the basket.

"Michael."

"Hmm?" the fox looked up with the end of a fry sticking out of his muzzle.

"Did you hear me?"

"…No, I was preoccupied with fries."

"For crying out loud…" murmured Ryan, not exactly angry at the situation but indifferently disappointed. "Rob, how about—" he stopped himself when he saw a basket of food between his arms. "How…" the lion blinked a couple times, cranking his head back and forth between his teammates. "How'd you get that so fast?"

"Hey, it smelled good," Rob defensively replied. "They had fish and chips, I couldn't resist." He then grabbed the fried fish and started tearing into it.

"Did you just pick up that fried fish with your hands?" Ryan's slack-jawed question slipped out.

"How else are you supposed to eat it?"

"Are… you… out of your mind?"

"What?"

"I…" Ryan stood up from his seat at the table. "You guys are actually mind-flooding me."

"Don't tell me you're a knife and fork kind of guy," Rob instigated.

"That's the only way to eat it."

Austin's sandwich fell from his hands into the basket. "You're the madman in this situation," he retorted as if Ryan had just slapped his mother.

"How is not wanting to be covered in grease and crumbs indicative of madness?"

"You pick that shit up with your hands," demanded the wolf ( _who is_ ** _not_** _actually Lord O'Donnell, Nail; his name is Austin and he likes blowing shit up like Keenan does_ ). "You're weak for using silverware in that situation."

"That's _actually_ disgusting to me," grunted Ryan.

"So what about this sandwich?" Austin picked up his meal and shook it as if he needed to kill it again. "Should I get some chopsticks for this?"

"It's _different_!"

"Oh, so don't bother looking at a plate of wings because you'll have a heart attack," Austin chirped.

"Alright, alright," Ryan backed out of the argument. "Remind me to bring my own napkins if I go to Rob's or Austin's house because they'll make me eat soup from my hands or something."

Robert adopted a fake hurting voice and shifted in discomfort. "Help," he grunted with a smirk.

"Gonna need a logical extreme on that one," Austin breathed.

"I'm with Ryan here," Michael chimed in. "You might as well eat your _steak_ with your hands."

"What are you talking about? That's not even fried!" Rob laughed off.

"But you're still getting grease on your hands!"

"That I can wash off when I'm done."

"But you wouldn't have to wash them off if you just used a fork!"

Ryan tuned them out and turned to the retriever. "Listen, Nick, have you—" he stopped when he saw a basket of onion rings next to the tablet the retriever had been working at. "Are you kidding—"

* * *

— §§ —

* * *

After splitting up to divide and conquer in the lion's words, Ryan found himself standing alongside the wall of a long hallway, littered on either side with doors and hastily designed signs beside them. The hallway was fairly busy, with Cornerian soldiers slipping in and out of the doors and down the hallway without missing a beat. Luckily, Ryan didn't seem out of the ordinary, as intended.

He took note of his surroundings. If Nick's intel was to be believed, they were standing in amidst dozens of rooms meant for storage back in the days of Lord O'Donnell occupations, now since repurposed into rooms upon rooms acting as a sort of barracks. This entire area seemed calm and relaxing, with Cornerians dotting the sides of the hallways like himself, just taking a break from work for a few minutes. Some were playing cards with one another, some were enjoying snacks and a cold drink, and others held a small gaming device between their hands.

Shame they had to leave.

He looked to his left to see Nick finishing up whatever he was doing on his tablet, eying the door next to him as well. When the canine nodded, the lion's flared tail flicked.

Nick lifted his wrist. "D-311 is your door," he spoke, eying the diagram on his device. "Wait for Ryan's cue."

"Got it," came Austin's voice on the other end.

Nick then shoved his tablet off on Ryan. "Hold this," he instructed as he dug around in one of his suit's pockets.

" _Mmmm_ , do you have any _illegal material_ on this device?" Ryan cracked a sneer.

"Don't do the voice now," Nick sighed.

"Is this tablet certified by the Cornerian Army as a licensed weapon of espionage?" he continued the voice as Nick tried even harder not to wheeze.

" _Do we have to keep this on all the time?_ " asked Austin from Nick's wrist. While Nick still dug around in his pockets, Ryan stole the retriever's arm and spoke to Austin that way.

"If you stop talking to us, we'll assume you're dead," Ryan replied honestly. Nick tried to yank his arm back but Ryan refused, so the retriever had to begrudgingly dig around his possessions with one arm.

" _My one true wish is to be dead_ ," deadpanned Austin.

"Doubt it," grunted Ryan. "Michael, you there?"

"… _I̥͎̤'̼͙̯̺m̲̝͍͙͓͉ ̱͖́s̱͉͕̥̭̜͉͝t̛͉̩̼i̱̮͇̭̱͚͕ḷ̴͚̺l̩͘ ̹͙͉̮͠he̶͉̯̘̩͈r̶e̴͉̣̝̝.̠́"_ crackled a distorted Michael.

"Whoa, my gods," Ryan recoiled a bit.

"Michael, no," Nick winced, yanking his arm back instinctively so he could turn down the volume. "You've become a robot."

"Robot Michael," laughed Ryan.

" _Y̶̫̝̰̳̘̱̬̗͢ḛ̼̼̰͔̭̝͢r̷̸͚̺̥ͅr̶͈͎̮̲͕͖̦͞͡r̢̟͕̕͡ ̷̨̘͔͍̰̘̤͚̫ͅḅ͕̘͇̫̦̰͘e̴̛̝͓̮̟̹̞̗̥̺͢b̶̦͍͔̪̜͍̝̯ȩ̬̼̠́͝d̴̫͍̦̙̱́e͍̲e͞҉҉̜̗͍̳̥e̵͎̜̺̪̳̠̤͇ͅ_ " the fox's distorted voice crackled again, followed by a cursed laugh.

"Michael," Ryan called out as if the fox was lost. "Please fix your radio."

" _I'll just talk for him_ ," Austin intervened. " _He's here with me, we're just waiting for your signal_."

"Okay," Ryan looked around. "Nick, if you're going, go."

"I'm waiting for Rob," the retriever replied.

"I'm here," he poked his head around Ryan's frame. "Hi."

"Watch the door," Nick instructed as he pulled out a shard of plastic. He pressed the card along a black box beside the door, causing it to beep, click and force itself to slide open. Nick and Ryan slipped inside, with Rob staying outside to watch as he was told.

A wave of heat hit the duo as soon as they entered. The room was mostly dark, with a blue glow towards the very back that was obscured by the outline of a pillar in the center of the room. Once the door sealed shut, Ryan heard the sound of a chair grinding on the metallic floor, followed by footsteps. Ryan his behind the indiscernible centerpiece while Nick stayed put, eyes staring at his screen. A flashlight clicked on, illuminating Nick's golden fur as well as the center object which turned out to be a large server tower encompassed in a metal cage.

"Hey, who are you?" the Cornerian wielding the flashlight questioned. The only thing illuminating his frame was the blue glow from the display behind him, and the reflections of green from his visor. "How did you get in here?"

Nick shrugged when the soldier approached him. "I'm a locksmith," he deadpanned. When the soldier tried to push him out, Nick kicked his leg out, causing him to stumble into an emerging Ryan, who locked his neck into a vice grip while clamping his muzzle shut. The flashlight fell from his grasp with a _thud_.

The grinding chair sounded again, but before the other soldier could do anything, Nick threw his tablet at him. The soldier caught it, but the momentary distraction allowed Nick to pull the tablet down to deliver a forearm to the soldier's jaw. He stumbled into Nick's other arm, which pulled him forward into another vicious forearm. The soldier attempted to fight back, only for Nick to wrestle his arm behind the soldier's neck. In one smooth motion, he jerked his elbow backwards, forcing the Cornerian's face into the steel grate, cracking his visor. Dazed, the soldier rested against the grate, allowing Nick to pull back and slam his elbow into him again. He dropped to the floor in a heap, coinciding with Ryan gently laying the other unconscious soldier to the ground.

Ryan picked the flashlight up and pointed it at Nick, who was pacing in a short circle while bending and extending his left arm.

"Funny bone," Nick wheezed, though it wasn't in laughter. " _Funny bone_ ," he repeated with more saturated pain. Ryan withheld a snicker.

" _Mmmm_ , was it _humerus_?"

"You can actually shut up," Nick shot back while Ryan just laughed.

The lion walked around the server to come face to face with a large blue screen, littered with numbers and indecipherable strings of code. Not even the simplistic diagrams and names made any sense to him, so he wandered away from the screen and to one of the unconscious soldiers. Ryan rummaged through his belongings, stealing his badge and small blaster, as well as his security card and key ring.

"Hey Austin," he spoke into his own wrist this time. "We're in the server room."

" _Okay…?_ " the wolf sounded confused. " _So do you have the security clearance down or no?_ "

"I just wanted to say we got in," Ryan smirked. "Have some patience; we're not miracle workers."

" _The way you were talking on the ship gave me different implications_."

"Do we really have to start this again?" Ryan sounded falsely disappointed.

" _H̹̗e̝̮ý, ̸͔̜͍̗̟̞g̠̻̬̞̦̪̤͟u͇̯̯̥̞͎̕y̧͖͉̲̹̹̤s̻,̣͇̣̪̞͘ ͞d͡o̧̭ͅn̷̦͓̳͈̖̖̪'̢̲t͔́ ͍͚̫͢f͖̥̗͓̫͓́i̷̮̫̟̲̭g̺̲̣͇ḩt̻͉̜ ̬͕̜͙̦̤̜n̯͇͉̼̬̮̰ǫ̘̮̰̠̖w̥̮̭̗̳̳͡ p̥l͍̗͔̞̹̳̦e̻̦͔̣͉a̻̗̠̱̦̰̪͢s͖͕̳͔̙̦̭e_.̘̞"

"Ah! Michael!" Ryan rubbed his head with his free hand. "Fix your radio."

" _I̟̫̘̝̞ d͍̣͇̯͚̀i̮͔̯̻͎͍͖d̫̯͘ ̛͓͕̗̖̜̣fi̸x̞̼̫̞̲̘ ̪̺͚m͔̜̺̠y ̶̟̳͉̠̖̞r̢a̮̩̘̰̖͕̺d̦̼̫̗͕i͏̘̭͙̠ͅo̢̥.̷̬̮̦̫_ "

"Doubt it," Ryan murmured.

\- § -

"Look, just tell me when you have it done," Austin glanced out of the corner of his eye. The hallway ended in a heavy metal door, with the airlock-like door locked and unmovable. "Michael and I are gonna get our end of the job done, so just open that door and we'll be on our way."

" _Please don't do anything stupid_ ," Ryan pleaded.

"It's not me you should worry about," answered Austin, checking to make sure the backpack on his back was secured.

" _Your door is open_ ," Nick announced within seconds of the blast doors peeling inward. Austin cautiously crept in while Michael followed closely behind.

The room they entered housed a large reactor-like device. According to Ryan, this device generated the encompassing shield around Sargasso so that stray meteors or enemy fire wouldn't damage the frail station. The stainless-steel machine whirred loudly as heat radiated off it, distorting the glow of the off-white lights above them. Austin circled the catwalk around the machine to check for hostiles, while Michael looked around to find a weak spot in the generator. There were control panels along the left side of the catwalk connected to the machine, so he took that as his incentive.

"Now this is something Ryan won't bitch at me for blowing up," Michael murmured to himself. Austin dropped his backpack so the two of them could get some appropriate hardware. The fox found himself wire-cutters, a screwdriver, and a hammer for good measure; while the wolf snagged a few remote explosive charges and a little detonator he clipped to his belt.

Michael felt around the blocky control panel until he found a hitch in the plating. His screwdriver slipped between the cracks and pried open the plate enough so that he could peel it away with the end of his hammer. Doing this exposed dozens of wires and circuitry, which were evidently still live judging by the heat he could feel on his fingertips just reaching for them. Meanwhile, Austin dropped down to his stomach and reached underneath the steel grate of the catwalk to stick one of his charges to the underside of the walkway, just in front of the entrance. After replicating the same on the other side of the catwalk, he also placed a charge on the back wall of the room just in case.

"Why's the shield generator door open?" a voice called out.

"Shit," Austin hissed. "Michael, hammer."

The fox held the dislodged sheet of metal in front of him as he hid behind the console, tossing his hammer to Austin in the process. He snuck around the edge of the walkway to position himself behind the threshold of the heavy doors. He spied two solders approaching the door with blasters drawn.

Austin lashed out once the shadow of the soldiers crossed the entryway. The head of the hammer blasted the closest soldier below the belt, and since he couldn't continue forward, he spun and swung backwards to catch the older soldier in the jaw. The first soldier doubled over in excruciating pain and unable to even call out for help, allowing Austin to swing at the other stunned soldier, knocking his blaster out of his hands. While he was still disoriented, Austin shoved him into the wall and blasted him in the head with the weapon, cracking his helmet and almost instantly felling the poor soldier. He dashed over to the other one who still coughing and sputtering and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and belt. With a roar, Austin hurled the Cornerian over the guardrail and into the machine generator before he plummeted however deep the room actually was. Only when Austin heard the thud at the bottom did he hand the hammer back to Michael, cheeky smile and all.

"You made that look easy."

"That's because it was."

Michael giggled. "Uh, _extremely Austin voice_ : _everything is easy because I'm just good at it_."

Austin cracked a little chuckle as he eyed the entryway. "Make it quick."

"Uhhh," the fox looked into the open control panel. "Which one?"

"Which _what_?"

"Which one?" he repeated, gesturing at the maze of wires and circuits he was presented with.

"The movies always say the red one."

"Wasn't it always the blue one?"

Austin's tail sagged. "To tell you the truth, I don't remember."

"Oh no," Michael leaned away. "This is mind-flooding me so bad. What if I break something?"

"That's… the entire point though."

"But I mean; if we're taking this place back sometime, shouldn't we try to minimize the damage we deal?"

Austin's eyes narrowed. "I think Ryan gave up on that approach the moment he bombed an entire hangar bay."

Michael ended up nodding. "True. But what should I do?"

"I just planned on blowing it up," Austin shrugged, his tail coming to life. "Ryan might not like it, but it'll get the job done."

"But we have to be careful," reminded the fox. "One wrong move and security is all over us."

"I think you should just cut the red wire."

"And what if it doesn't work?"

"I'll just blow it up," Austin said with a worrisome smile; at least to Michael it was worrisome. He seemed to get more and more eager the more he talked about his explosives.

"No, Austin, seriously," Michael pleaded, trying to calm the blood lust in the wolf. "Don't blow anything up."

"But I gotta."

"You _don't_ gotta."

"Says you."

"Yes, says me; the guy with the wire cutters."

"Bomb beats wire cutters."

"In this situation I'd argue the inverse."

"Michael; bomb beats wire cutters in _literally_ every situation."

Michael cupped his muzzle in his hands. "Okay, look, I'll just start cutting some wires," he picked up his cutters and singled out a wire. One snip later, and nothing seemed to happen. Michael reopened his tightly shut eyes and sighed.

"Can I blow it up?" Austin eagerly asked.

"Wait, one more." Another wire cut, nothing happened.

"Michael."

"Okay, maybe just one more." Again, nothing.

Austin smirked. "Michael."

Michael's hesitance slowly began to melt away as he smirked back. An evil giggle slipped through his teeth as he said "Oops," while cutting yet another wire. Austin just laughed.

"It's not working."

"Alright, look, just one more."

"You said _one more_ like—"

Finally, something seemed to happen. The machine's whirring calmed down, almost as if someone decided to just turn it off for the night. Michael looked into the wiring to see what he did, and just started to laugh harder. He pulled out the end of a black wire he snipped, giggling all the while.

"So this one is connected to the power supply," he explained. "Maybe shoulda started with this one."

"Or, you know," Austin's ears fell as he glanced at the console. "Maybe shoulda just turned it off?"

Michael looked confused for a moment or two as he stood up and looked over the control panel. Sure enough, there was a noticeable switch referred to as the "power" switch, conveniently located in the heart of the control panel's interface. It appeared unlocked as well.

"Oh," the fox started laughing even harder. "That would have worked too, I guess."

"Your incompetence is unparalleled."

"Look, I did what I needed to do," Michael dismissively replied. "The shields should be down right now."

"At least you did something," Austin shrugged.

Michael just frowned.

"So… what wires did you cut first?"

"Is that important?"

"I think it's appropriately important."

"But they didn't do anything."

"That you know of," Austin added on. "You could've cut the line to the Wi-Fi for all I know."

"Why would the Wi-Fi be connected to the shield generator?"

"I don't know; it was just a hypothetical."

Michael just shrugged and found time to lift his wrist. "Hey, Ryan; we disabled the shields."

" _Michael, please fix your radio_."

"Oh come on; I've done this so many times already!" whined Michael.

" _I actually cannot understand you_ ," deadpanned Ryan.

"Shh!" snapped Austin, pushing Michael's arm down before grabbing his neck and pulling him against the perimeter of the room.

" _What was that?_ " asked a confused Ryan.

"Ryan, _please_ be quiet," hissed Austin.

" _Can you fix Michael's radio?_ "

"Ryan, shut up," growled Austin, silencing the radio. He eyed the entryway, noting several shadows against the far wall slowly approaching the open door. Wide eyed, Austin turned his head back to Michael. "We need to leave."

"How?" Michael whispered back.

"Down," the wolf looked through the catwalk mesh.

"Uh—" without warning, Austin jerked the fox around and double fisted his backpack. "Hey!" he whined as Austin started battering him around to get what he wanted from his bag. He ended up pushing Michael, bending him over to be able to get into the bag. "This is so uncomfortable," the fox whined again.

"Not my fault I can't get in here," he grunted.

"You're not supposed to!"

"As far as I'm concerned, this is fair for me to use."

Austin looked to his left to gauge the situation, only to see five Cornerian soldiers stopped in the doorway with blasters drawn. He froze, mirroring the same expression as the other soldiers. The blank expressions masked by their green visors made the standstill even more tense, as the wolf didn't know how friendly or hostile the soldiers were towards them. At first he was confused at why the soldiers didn't advance, until he looked forward and noticed Michael was bent over while he stood over him; the angle presented extremely suggestive.

"Um," Austin couldn't move, blushing when remembering his and Michael's earlier comments. "I…"

"I can explain," was all that came out of Michael's mouth. "See, what he's trying to do is—"

"Is get this thing out of his bag so I can do _this_!"

Austin suddenly launched a cylinder out of Michael's backpack, and as soon as it hit the ground at the soldiers' feet; it detonated in a plume of hazy smoke. In the commotion, Austin yanked Michael by the collar again and threw himself and the fox over the guardrail. Michael yelled in fear, but Austin kept calm since he had also wrapped a hook around the guardrail before he jumped off. Austin kicked off the wall, sending them swinging towards the machine. His open hand grabbed on and let the duo slide down before touching down on the steel-plated floor. Because of the momentum, they didn't stick the landing by any stretch of imagination, but Austin still managed to scramble to his feet first and yanked Michael up again like he was a toy soon after. As the duo dashed down a hallway towards the exit, Austin unclipped the detonator from his belt and set it off.

\- § -

Ryan almost fell when the ground beneath him shook violently. The blue screens Nick was working at suddenly turned red, showing countless error messages in its place. An alarm soon sounded on the display, which Nick swiftly silenced. Only one word left Ryan's mouth when the commotion subsided.

"Austin."

Nick turned his head. "That wasn't him, was it?"

"I have good reason to believe it was."

"What did he do?"

" _Mmmm_ ," his sneer held a rather worried yet annoyed undertone. "Oh, nothing; just completely disembowel the entire shield generator for Sargasso."

Nick just wheezed in reply.

"That's not funny."

"It really is," Nick sputtered in amongst laughter. "See, he did what he needed to do but he didn't do it the right way."

"Look, I'm not gonna get mad at him yet," he dismissively replied. "Let's just get the rest of this done. Rob and I are gonna start the next task."

Nick wheezed lightly. " _Task_ ," he remarked jokingly.

" _Mmmm_ , complete this task and I shall award you handsomely, valiant warrior."

"Hey, you said it, not me."

Ryan set his visor down and slipped out of the server room, sealing the door behind him. Rob noticed and stepped over to him, almost eager for updates.

"Nick is tearing it apart," he told the llama, wiping his forehead. "How's it going?"

"Did you feel that shake? A ton of soldiers just ran towards one of the hangars; what's going on?"

"What do you think went wrong?" questioned Ryan.

"Austin?"

"Austin."

"Should've known," Rob shook his head.

"So are you still good?"

"Nobody's said anything to me yet, so I guess that's okay," Rob replied. "But, honestly, it's not the best. I feel like I'm not getting to shine here."

"Hey now, everyone's got a role and you're doing yours just fine," Ryan patted Rob on the back. "In fact, I do need you for a moment. We need to take a little detour and head over to traffic control. It's time to decommission some attendants."

"But what about Nick?" Rob glanced over at the door. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"I dunno, I'll ask him," he rose his wrist. "Nick, you doing fine?"

" _I'm full of real world problems_ ," Nick answered.

"Why?"

" _It's kinda hot in here_."

"Well yeah, you're not exactly dealing with children's electronics in there."

"Servers can get really hot," Rob remarked. "Like, I think in some places, their server rooms can get hotter than triple digits."

Ryan pursed his lips. "Nick, is it actually one hundred degrees in that room right now?"

Nick answered, " _It could be, yeah_."

Ryan looked up at the ceiling and began pacing. "Okay… one hundred minus thirty-two is sixty-eight… then multiply that by five, that becomes three hundred forty… and then divide that by nine… So that's gonna be like forty—" his tone suddenly became much more serious. "No; I messed up somewhere. It can't be fuckin' forty degrees Celsius in that room right now."

"That's like thirty-seven, thirty-eight," Rob corrected.

"Nick," Ryan belted.

" _Yeah?_ " the canine answered, almost sounding delirious.

"You need to get out of there."

" _I don't need to get out, I just gotta break some code for a minute_."

"Just… be careful in there."

" _I can't promise anything_."

"Look, Austin and Michael already blew something up—"

" _Probably_."

"Yes, _probably_ , but still—"

" _Hey, I'm not gonna blow anything up_ ," Nick retorted. " _Just go do Ryan things while I do Nick things_."

Ryan looked over at Rob, nodded, and urged him to walk forward as a steady stream of Cornerian soldiers trotted in the other direction around them. An alarm continued to blare overhead, perpetually reminding them of what their teammates presumably did to attract the attention.

"Watch the cameras," Ryan advised, keeping his eyes peeled out for those secret surveillance cameras dotting the station. Even though they didn't mean particularly much in their current situation, Ryan's paranoia was at an all-time high.

"I don't think it would affect me any," Rob shrugged it off.

Ryan's eyes narrowed. "Doubt it."

"No no," Rob insisted. "I don't think they have any pictures of me on record."

"That's a hard _doubt it_."

"Well, listen; I honestly think I've taken more pictures of my dick than of my face."

"Robert."

"I'm not lying."

"I didn't need to know that information."

"It's relevant to the situation."

"That's another hard _doubt it_."

"Look, I'm just describing why I think your worries are unjustified in my situation. You're the leader of this crew; if anything, you'd be the most distinguishable."

"That still doesn't rule you out," Ryan just shook his head. "Hey, I'm not trying to start anything, I'm just voicing my worries."

"It's fine," Rob answered calmly. "Look, if Austin did what you think he did, we're on a tight timeframe. Let's make what we have to do quick instead of arguing semantics."

"Alright," the lion digressed. "Fair enough. Let's head this way."

* * *

— §§ —

* * *

The lion and llama followed the station's halls to a large door barricaded by heavy security clearances, all of which were rendered useless once Ryan used the keys he scavenged off the one soldier from earlier. The duo entered a brightly-lit room filled with instruments and consoles as if Ryan's cockpit from earlier was amplified tenfold. He had to stop himself from bugging out at the sight of all the high-tech equipment in the room as he and Rob made their way inside.

Ryan snickered to himself and tapped a soldier on his helmet. "Hey, guess what?"

"Huh?"

Ryan unsheathed the blaster at his side and belted the soldier across the neck. He swiped the now unconscious soldier's blaster with his other hand, then opened fire on the room. Of the dozen or so personnel in the room at the time, Ryan managed to tag about half of them in his sweep across the control room. The rest of the shots flashed sparks around the room, shattered wall panels and display screens, and scattered debris as if a small twister slammed into the hold. Ryan passed off the other blaster to Rob as he stepped forward.

"If I were you I'd suggest staying down," Ryan shouted, shoving chairs aside to survey his damage. Rob walked back to the main doors and sealed them shut, overriding the outside locks so that only he and Ryan could open them.

"Traitor," spat a wounded Cornerian being tended to by someone who hadn't gotten hit by Ryan's shots. Ryan just laughed to himself.

"I was never on your side," the lion spat back, grabbing the other Cornerian by the neck and shoving him away. He yanked the injured canine up and forced him into a chair, still aiming his weapon at a vulnerable area of the uniform. "Disable the electronics."

The soldier just sputtered and stared at the damaged console.

"Disable the telecommunications and the aerospace sensors or I'll start wiping the floor with the rest of you."

"That won't change anything," the canine ripped off his visor, but couldn't muster the strength to throw it before Ryan slapped it out of his hands.

"Mmmm, perhaps you just don't understand," Ryan began to sneer, but corrected himself to be more serious. "This station here belongs to Lord O'Donnell. You thugs took what belongs to our fearless leader who only wants to elicit change from people like you. Robbing him of his base of operations warranted this counterattack. Now we can make this quick and painless, or there will be a lot of lives lost on your side. I know which one I would pick."

"You and your band of criminals won't win."

"Is that so?" Ryan chuckled to himself. "Then disable the comms and sensors. Prove me wrong on an even playing field."

Behind the lion, the Cornerian who was trying to attend to the injured had sharpened a shard of glass while he was talking. Without warning he shot up and attempted to use the crude weapon, only for Rob to catch the attack by shooting down the assailant before he could wind up for the killing blow. Ryan looked behind him, but the momentary distraction allowed the other soldier to lunge out of his chair and cut down the lion with a tackle to the back of his knee. Rob hid behind the center console as three other soldiers tried to return fire with their own blasters.

The soldier wrestled the blaster away from Ryan, but Ryan was still strong enough to fight off the wounded canine. Ryan attempted to stand but buckled when putting weight on the one knee. The injured canine used that momentary distraction again and delivered another nasty chop block to the lion's knee. While on his back, Ryan deflected a few of the shots the canine threw at him, then tossed him off when he was too tired to throw any more. He had to crawl over to the blaster because of his now injured knee, then gunned down the soldier as he attempted to attack again.

Meanwhile Rob started to return fire at the three armed Cornerians. Since they had lower ground and more cover, it was proving to be difficult to take any of them out. Rob did spy a dislodged light fixture overtop due to Ryan's earlier onslaught. Sliding to the side of the console, Rob shot out one of the supporting cords, causing the long fixture to fall out and swing over. The three Cornerians couldn't react in time as the light slammed into the three of them, scattering them and their weapons across the floor. Rob hopped the center console and quickly advanced, mercilessly shooting down the three uprising canines before they had a chance to recover.

Ryan pulled himself up to his feet with some help from the consoles and the chair. A grimace across his face, he tossed the blaster aside and clambered into the chair. "If you want something done, we've proven that you've gotta do it ya damn self."

Ryan raised his wrist. "Austin, shields down yet?" After getting no response, he shrugged it off and tapped away at the console.

"You okay Ryan?"

"Ah, the right knee is blown out," he winced again. "No point in sugar-coating the obvious."

"Can you walk?"

"I could hardly walk _without_ a blown-out knee," he still managed to chuckle. "I'll need your help getting out of here."

"No problem," Rob smiled. "Good to know that I do have some use here."

"But of course," Ryan said, hobbling out of his seat. "That's what team unity is about."

Rob nodded. "Team Unity. I like that name."

"That's exactly what I said."

"What?"

"Mmmm, _Team Unity_ ," Ryan painfully sneered. "I like that _totally original name_ that's not something Ryan thought of earlier today."

"I didn't know you thought of that," Rob shrugged.

"Well no, I didn't expect you to have a direct line to my cerebral cortex; reading my thoughts like some damn telepathic alien freak."

"Your word choice is mind-flooding me," Rob cried, holding his head as he stepped away from the lion.

Ryan, looking over his handiwork and the console he tampered with, adjusted the frequency of the device on his wrist. With an all-too confident and proud smirk, he spoke into the device:

"Lord O'Donnell, the bridge is down. Send in the cavalry."


	3. Part 3

— §§ — Part 3/3 — §§ —

* * *

After nearly a full year of waiting for their backup, Ryan could see dozens… no, _hundreds_ of fighters warp into combat from the bridge's viewports. Like clockwork, the fighters assumed formation and began to infiltrate Sargasso one by one; fending off the insufficient defense with ease. A confident laugh escaped Ryan's mouth as alarms began to reverberate throughout the station as if a tornado were approaching.

Ryan took a step and faltered on his injured leg, so Rob had to quickly get behind him and support his other half as they walked out of the main bridge. As they went to turn around the corner, Rob quickly grabbed Ryan's collar and yanked him backward just as a barrage of laser fire singed the walls they ducked behind. There had to be a half-dozen Cornerian soldiers in formation down the hallway, maybe more since Rob only had a split second to look down there.

Ryan rolled to his knees and crawled up to the wall to rest, while Rob drew his blaster and held off the soldiers with aimless suppressing fire.

"I can't believe this place doesn't have an emergency exit," Robert scoffed to himself, looking over his shoulder.

"This isn't a commercial jetliner, Rob; this is a friggin' space station," Ryan winced and curled up along the wall behind Rob. "We're trapped."

"Oh yeah?" A confident smile creased the alpaca's maw. "Well just you—" here Rob poked his head out, only to get greeted with another barrage of lasers that clipped the corner of the wall. He too sat down, part of the wool on his neck smoldering. Ryan's arm extended from his fetal-positioned body to extinguish an ember forming, which Rob slapped away after he heard the suppressed sizzle.

"Look, this is where we thrive, okay?" Ryan started. "Owen Wilson's _Behind Enemy Lines_ , right? There's thirty seconds of entertainment here when you look at our situation and see—" Ryan stopped when his transponder buzzed. "Speak of the devil. Oh, _hi_ Austin," Ryan could smirk all he wanted to his wrist; Austin couldn't call him out for having _that_ look on his face. "Nice to see you aren't dead."

" _My wish hasn't changed since last chapter_ ," Austin reminded.

"Do you even remember last chapter? It's been so long."

" _Vaguely. How long's it been?_ "

"Doesn't matter. So, hey, uh…" Ryan peeked the corner above Rob's head and was almost blasted in the face for his trouble. "You wanna help a guy out?"

" _Where are you?_ " Austin asked.

"Just outside the main bridge," Ryan replied, with Rob holding their ground defiantly, albeit insufficiently. "We're a bit stuck."

" _Well that's unfortunate, because Michael and I are a little stuck as well_."

"Rob and I are pinned down by about a dozen Cornerian soldiers and my knee is basically useless. We could use a little help before they rush us."

" _We will never in a million years make it that far in that time_."

"Dude…" Ryan genuinely sounded shocked, jaw hanging open. "What are you talking about?"

" _You're_ ** _actually_** _too far away_ ," emphasized Austin.

"There is no such thing," deadpanned Ryan.

" _Three-_ ** _hundred_** _percent impossible_ ," Austin once again emphasized.

"I mean, you'll probably get shot at a little, but you could save us!"

" _Ryan, we could never,_ ** _ever_** _, make it that fast_ ," answered Austin, sounding a little exasperated at the fact that he was arguing this current situation.

"Dude, think of the viewership we could make if you—"

" _We're not even remotely close to you_ ," interrupted Austin, exasperation molding into utter disbelief.

Ryan leaned his head back against the wall again. "Hold up; let me be the first to point out: these two guys blow up the shield generator and never for a second think they should get back to their squadron leader as soon as possible. Had we stuck with the, _mmmm_ , _implied_ directive, the situation would not be so dire."

" _We split up for a reason, Ryan; right now you fend for yourself_."

"Ah yeah, maybe I should have used my comedically quick wit to stop that guy from shattering my leg," Ryan's sarcasm couldn't shadow the fact that that his disappointment was beginning to show.

" _That's not my fault that you couldn't fend him off_."

" _Mmmm_ , not my fault you couldn't disable the shields and had to resort to blowing them up," sneered Ryan. "Number one priority: blow the frigg outta everything you see, right? Number two priority: check the map; oh, he's too far away."

" _We did our job and got out; so surely you can do the same_."

"Oh, yes, let me just get out of this fight when they have us pinned up on the bridge with the only accessible exit barricaded."

Austin seemingly ignored him.

"I'm just saying, if that were me and Rob blowing up the shields and you getting pinned on the bridge," he stopped to take a glance at Rob still occasionally firing to keep the soldiers back. "Wouldn't even have to ask."

Rob sat back and peered over Ryan's shoulder to chime in, "Would've been one hell of a journey. A _successful_ one at that."

"Hell yeah dude," Ryan chuckled.

"Also, can I point out something? Can that also be our team motto? _Team Unity: you fend for yourself_. Underneath the elaborate crest with the lightning bolt: Team Unity; 'you fend for yourself'."

"I mean, that'll cost more money to trademark, but—"

Austin shot in, " _Look, Ryan, we wouldn't have even walked to the hangar bay before you guys took over the bridge. We're still lost in the accessways_."

"Oh but my explosion senses are tingling; we can't just go and disable the shields, we gotta blow it up too."

" _We were stuck in the same situation you were in, but Michael and I were able to think outside the box and handle that situation by ourselves. Why can't you?_ "

"Dude, there's like two dozen armed soldiers right down the hallway," Ryan breathed anxiously.

"See, it all started with Michael not being able to disable the shields," Rob chimed in again. "Austin had to blow it up for him. Inability to do things just floods to the rest of the team."

" _Rob, don't even try to be the suck-up with that bull-shit_ ," Michael's voice intruded the call.

"Oh, so Michael had time to fix his radio but not enough time to come back to help us?" Ryan egged on.

" _Look_ ," Austin intervened. " _Michael? He did his job fine. We only blew it up because we were cornered and needed to escape. You're stuck because you can't think of an escape like we did_."

"Sure, let's just blow up the bridge; that'll solve a lot of problems," Ryan bitterly interjected.

" _You know exactly what I meant when I said that_."

"Just get over here and help before they rush us."

" _Ryan, you're stuck on the opposite side of the base. Literally a ten-minute run; and that's assuming we know where we're going._ "

"We've got ten oh five left on the clock," Rob hollered over another wave of blaster fire.

" _They're going to rush in less than three minutes, easy_ ," Austin explained. " _It would take us over five minutes to get out of the access halls, not to mention the extra ten minutes it would take us to get over there! Do you understand how_ ** _gigantic_** _this base is?_ "

"Ah, let me just pull up the Sargasso map," Ryan started, sarcastic bitterness lacing his tone as if he were a late-night radio show host. "You can't see what I'm pointing at, but that's fine. Over here by the engines we have you and Michael just finishing up gutting the entire shield generator and probably five or six power generators in the process. Meanwhile, Ryan's over here across the two hangar bays and up the main hallway towards the bridge. I'm here, _mmmm, all Northern members booked at surge pricing, I guess I'll just walk to the hangar bay_. You go, ' _oh, what's a productive thing to do after we completely misconstrue our leader's directive? Ah, let's go search the access halls, mmmm, my shortcut senses are tingling over here, maybe this is a quick way to get to the bridge and help our leader in peril_. _Wait! Oh no, Ryan's in trouble! Should we try to get back to him? Nah, he's an adult, he'll be fine. He just had his damn leg ripped off and is cornered by some of Corneria's best soldiers; no, it's okay'_."

" _But why did you get stuck up on the bridge?_ " asked a newly un-robotic Michael.

"Why did I get stuck? We got into a blaster battle before we could disable any connections and they must've called in reinforcements or something."

" _You know, Michael and I took our situation in stride; why can't you?_ " Austin snapped back.

"You guys are savable just like us," Ryan belted back.

" _You're_ ** _savable_** _?_ " Austin questioned disbelievingly, almost doubting the words that he heard. Michael's demonic laugh soon sounded afterwards.

"I'm just as savable as you are," Ryan explained. "You cheated death and escaped; I'm begging and pleading for my friends that have already escaped death once today to tell us the secrets so that we can do the same. In my heart of hearts, I thought: _maybe_. I thought _maybe_ our team would share those rare secrets with us; unifying our directives and completing this job for Lord O'Donnell and—"

" _Who do you think you're convincing?_ " Austin spat. " _Do you think that one of the thirty people reading this story right now is saying, 'man, Ryan's right'_."

"That's assuming thirty people are even reading this train-wreck," murmured Ryan. "Especially after it got put on hiatus like the rest of this joker's stories."

" _Hey, Ryan,_ " Michael butted in. " _Remember that time that I was injured, and I asked you to help?_ "

"Don't even pull an anecdote from a story that hasn't even been thought of," rebuked Ryan. "I will break the fourth wall as many times as I have to in order to get some damn help up here!"

" _Maybe if you would have properly analyzed the situation, you could have put yourself in a better spot, could have saved your leg, and would have been halfway out of this place by now_ ," Austin started to shout. " _Now you gotta complain to me that you're stuck and need help when you could have avoided this situation entirely_."

"Have you known Ryan to avoid trouble?" Rob asked.

"You're not helping our case, Robert," Ryan breathed in his general direction. "Look, Austin, you gotta put yourself in my shoes for a second. You could go off and get captured while the rest of us are devising a plan. We get you out but when we go back to Lord O'Donnell? _Oh great, there goes Ryan letting his teammates take the bait and get captured again_. _Now we gotta waste assets and save them_. Do you think for a second that I would ever leave my teammates to face certain death when there is a feasible situation—however impossible you may assume it to be—that would result in their freedom?"

" _This is gaslighting_ ," Austin complained.

"You'd know a lot about lighting gas, now would you?"

" _Ah, well, there's Ryan's true colors here_ ," Austin sighed openly. " _Michael, there's an access tunnel coming up; this'll get us to the hangar bay, I'm positive_."

"Austin, please!" Ryan cried out. "I'm begging you!"

" _I've said my say_."

"I don't believe it."

" _Ryan, just a question: do you know how time works?_ "

"You ran away from me and expect me to respect that decision?"

" _You were pinned up there before we even knew where we were_."

"Untrue."

" _It's your responsibility to finish your end of the mission, Ryan! Surely you as the team leader you_ ** _decreed_** _yourself as should know this_."

"I got tackled by a large boy!" Ryan started to shout.

" _Well, that sucks man!_ " Austin shouted back. " _Suck it up! We've got our own issues!_ "

Rob interjected once more, "I'd like someone like Nick to recreate the simulation and see if you two can actually get here in a timely manner instead of wasting our time with such a petty argument."

" _You two are the ones not letting this die!_ " snapped Austin.

"And you're letting _us_ die with your greed!" Ryan fired back. "I'm with Rob here; bring on the simulation. Better yet, simulate a scenario with you two not blowing up the shield generator, disabling it instead, then immediately coming up to pick up your boys stuck on the bridge so we can head back to the hangar bay bumping "What Is Love" by Haddaway from _Night at the Roxbury_."

" _Prediction_ ," Michael intruded. " _We get back to Nick after everything is said and done and he says, 'ǫh̴,̶͘ ̵̨y̷o͢u ḱn͢ow͠ i̶͟t̀͟'̧s ͘f͘ưc̕kè͠d̨̛ ̵̶ų̕p̷̛ ̶͟wh͝e̛n̵͠҉ ̷͜A̴us̴͝t͠í̷͘n̛͡ ̧͠a͞n̡d̷͟͡ ̷̕M̛̀͟i͟͏͢c̛͞h̴҉a҉ęl̛͟͠ ̸a̛͝g͘͠reè ͝o͏͝n̶ ҉so̡m͡͞ét̢h͘͟in͞͝g̴̶̢'̛_."

"Oh, god, Michael, please stop talking," Ryan cried.

" _He's got a point_ ," remarked Austin. " _Point is, Ryan; you're dumb_."

"Dumb for being optimistic?"

" _Do you actually expect us to drop everything we're doing to save your tail when you've dug yourself a grave to sleep in?_ "

"I assumed that was a part of the Unity contract we all presumably signed before the story started."

" _Can you please stop breaking the fourth wall?_ "

"Look, you two have already completed so many missions for other agencies, mine own and others," Ryan started. "You're both in this mindset where the only thing that matters is the heart in your chest. _My_ heart beats for the team, okay?"

" _Ryan_."

"If any of my teammates end up in a situation where it's ninety-nine percent likely they don't come out of this alive, I'm still gonna give it the ol' _college try_."

" _It's impossible_ ," Austin sighed.

"I see why you never finished college."

" _It's_ ** _actually_** _impossible and I'm_ ** _actually_** _getting mind-flooded with how asinine this argument is!_ "

"There's a strong chance," Ryan explained. "Twenty percent chance it rains on the day of your concert but I'll be dammed if I don't show up headbanging in the rain to Metallica's "Master of Puppets" while the tornado sirens are going off."

" _It's not like you're across the street; you're across the entire station! This thing was built for the sole purpose of being really fucking big!_ "

"There _is_ a chance," insisted Ryan.

" _I_ ** _know_** _there's not a chance and I_ ** _know_** _you don't know the numbers here!_ "

Ryan's bitterness reached a breaking point. "Oh no, man overboard! Oh, but the water here is negative fifty and hypothermia is already setting in; it's not worth it."

Austin sighed. " _I know you're playing this up for the laughs for the now ten people still reading so I'm going to concede defeat and—_ "

"No, no, no," interrupted Ryan. "You're not going to quit on Unity today. I understand your position… but: firstly, I would have tried if you were in this position, and secondly—"

" _No you wouldn't have_ ," Austin belted back. " _I woulda just told you to not even bother_."

"Doesn't matter; you don't get to choose what I do."

" _Well, then, that's just gonna have to be your downfall, Ryan_."

"It doesn't matter now; you're cursed with _disunity_ ," Ryan sneered. "You've proven yourself in the camp of hitting the squirrel in the road."

" _Excuse me?_ "

"There's two kinds of people; people that swerve to avoid hitting a squirrel and people that keep going unfazed."

Michael's un-robotic voice returned to say, " _So what you're saying is that you'd swerve into oncoming traffic and take out two perfectly good families to save a squirrel?_ "

Ryan caught onto his metaphor and fired back calmly, "You guys think you're both perfectly good?"

All that came back was Michael's demonic and again robotic laugh.

" _Don't ever doubt your plac_ e," said Austin, clearly mentally spent.

Ryan looked over his shoulder to Rob. "These guys, man; this is a problem!"

"Tell me about it," Rob grunted, his wooly neck now resembling baby swiss cheese.

"A couple high bounty missions under their belts and they think they're something special to ignore unity."

" _Meanwhile_ ," interjected Austin once more, " _You're micromanaging this entire operation to a point where one small thing screws up your entire circadian rhythm and you have to set the record straight to the tune of impossible feats of supposed unity_."

Ryan chuckled to himself. "And how inspiring would it be to complete a harrowing feat of unity with a fundamentally broken dome-piece?"

Austin simply sighed.

"If you have to go outside the situation to pull in evidence against unity, you guys have already lost."

In an attempt to ignore him, Austin started talking to Michael about where to go and what to do. With Ryan's patience spread thin, he finally scoffed and shook his head.

"Fine!" Ryan barked. "I'll do it my friggin' self!" With that, he ripped his transponder off his wrist and chucked it down the hall. A few pops greeted his ears moments later as lasers tore into the object. Ryan then held his breath and used Rob's shoulders to lift himself to his feet. Triumphantly, he puffed his chest out and swallowed the pain from his leg, seemingly ready to tackle any challenge that called his name.

A blast shook the station soon after, causing Ryan to stumble forward, trip over Robert, and fall forward into the open hallway. His irises shrunk into singularities as he stared at numerous energy weapons pointed straight at him. All he could to was slam his eyes shut and scream.

The soldiers in the back of the formation yelled for the rest of the team's attention just before they were felled by lasers of a different kind. Ryan only heard lasers and yelling as he embraced the inevitable, but his screams soon silenced after he heard the thuds of numerous bodies hitting the ground. Moments after the commotion silenced itself, the lion pried his eyes open again to see too figures looking over him; weapons still drawn. Their silhouettes obscured by the lights above, they seemed to stare and examine the prone lion, unsure as to how to approach.

Ryan nervously laughed. "I don't suppose I can tell you an admittedly funny grocery store anecdote to get me out of this situation?"

The two figures continued to stare down at him. Ryan could vaguely make out a chameleon profile atop him, with his counterpart being some kind of large feline. They still had weapons trained, so to ease the tension, he added, "See, it all started with one middle-aged woman coming up to me and asking—"

The station shook once more, causing the two figures to falter ever so slightly. Rewiring his comedic wit to combat, Ryan retracted his legs and snapped them forward, dropkicking the chameleon down to his knees. With his right arm, he caught the assault weapon he lost grip of by the barrel, then whipped it forward to knock the assailant upside the head with the stock. Stunned, the chameleon could only fall backward onto his backside. Ryan quickly scooped up the rifle and pointed it at the other cat just as the feline scoped Ryan in. The feline stayed vigilant, though he dropped his stance when Rob poked his head out with a blaster trained his way.

With Ryan stumbling to his feet, the lighting change allowed him to better see the assailants, who he quickly recognized as Leon and Panther; close teammates of Lord O'Donnell's own team. With a sigh, he relaxed his combat stance and yelled, "You know, I didn't have to do that. You coulda just introduced yourself like all the cartoon villains do and we wouldn't've had to fight."

Panther's eyes narrowed. "Explain yourself."

"You know me! Or, at least, I know _you_ and that should be enough for you to know _me_."

"Panther does not know this supposed ally."

"You two are Lord O'Donnell's cronies!" Ryan explained. "I'm Ryan! I'm the guy he hired to retake Sargasso!"

Panther's head tilted. " _Cronies_?"

"You bald buffoon!" snapped the reptile beneath Ryan. "I am the great Leon! I am no crony!"

"Okay, let me set the record straight," backfired Ryan. "I know my mane doesn't go all the way up that high, but I am _not_ bald! Look, I have fur up there—" here Ryan leaned his head forward all the way to emphasize his point. With his guard down, Leon quickly spun as if he were firing up his own funnel cloud. With his tail extended, he clipped Ryan's ankles which flung the lion's feet skyward, eventually crashing down on his backside with a metallic thud, followed by the clattering of his discarded weapon. Leon's agility allowed him to snake his way atop Ryan as he crouched over his prone body with the weapon trained on his snout. Panther then trained his gaze on Rob so the alpaca would not intervene.

Disgusted by the chameleon's fluid movements, Ryan painfully grunted, "I know I'm single but I don't fight for that side, if you get the drift."

"Whose side do you fight for?" interrogated Leon.

"I'm on the side that would see this situation and be uncomfortable," Ryan replied, his eyes betraying him as he studied the folds on Leon's latex suit like a cartographer detailing a mountain range; only the hills and valleys were in the worst spot imaginable for him.

"Your allegiance," insisted Leon. "Who do you fight for?"

"Oh… Look, you could have come up with much better wording after my metaphor," Ryan groaned.

"We're on your side," Rob poked out of his corner. "O'Donnell? We're the team he sent to infiltrate."

Panther blinked. "Panther knew there was something familiar about this bald lion."

"Okay, can we please stop with the—"

"Enough of this," Leon snapped, keeping his gun trained.

Ryan's eyes wandered again. "You know, your… uh… anatomy… is dangerously close to mine, so if you could do me a favor and—"

Leon's glare silenced him as he inched closer with his weapon, the rest of his body following much to Ryan's dismay. "I don't trust your kind," he explained. "You could be deceiving me."

"Look, I'm trying to quell this argument in a deescalating tone of voice," Ryan calmly explained. "I've pledged my allegiance to Lord O'Donnell as you presumably have. Myself and my courageous team infiltrated this base on behalf of Lord O'Donnell as a prerequisite for re-assimilation into Lord O'Donnell's interplanetary territory of control."

Rob groaned across the hall. "Please stop with the mind-flood."

"Your diction is remarkable," Leon's crazed smile surfaced. "One of Wolf's main indicators of competence is a complete vocabulary. Please, accept my apology for doubting you."

"I'll accept it when my crotch isn't under a tornado warning," Ryan deadpanned. Leon promptly stood and extended an arm to lift Ryan up. When the chameleon noticed Ryan's limp, he motioned for Panther to approach and help. Ryan shook them away. "I'm fine."

"You are injured," Leon explained. "If you are to assist in eradicating the Cornerian opposition, we much have you closer to one-hundred percent than you are now."

"If my back hasn't given out for carrying this operation, surely my leg will withstand a cakewalk."

Panther narrowed his eyes. "Panther does not understand the metaphors of this one."

Ryan sneered, " _Mmmm_ , I didn't expect my wordage to be so easily misconstrued."

Panther's front teeth barred. "Who do you think you're taking Panther for?"

"I don't respect rhetorical questions," Ryan shot back. "Hey Rob, give me a header on everyone. We gotta meet up somewhere."

"Who do you think I am, Nick?" commented Rob.

Leon interjected, "The main hangar bay has been captured. If your friends are to meet in a secure location, that will be the place."

Ryan's tail flicked. "I don't know if you know this but we're a very long way away from the main hanger bay according to a teammate."

"Nonsense," Leon beamed a crazed smile. "The main hangar bay is only a few minutes away. Here, I can show you a shortcut through the access halls."

While Panther followed Leon down the hallway and past the pile of prone soldiers, a confident smirk bent the lion's maw as his shoulders perked up triumphantly. Rob merely sighed and followed.

* * *

— §§ —

* * *

The main hangar bay appeared as a warzone upon arrival, which was a good sign to Ryan. The bay was completely taken over with the familiar darkly colored uniform and neon visor of rogue Venomian soldiers. One by one, cargo ships filled to the brim with soldiers dropped off reinforcements and swiftly departed, while supply ships stayed behind and unloaded resources for the siege before being stowed away underneath the hangar bay floor. Down two separate corridors stemming from the hangar, firefights illuminated the metallic walls in alternating reds and blues, with units of soldiers lining up and advancing whenever appropriate. Judging by the sounds, the battle appeared to be winding down in favor of Lord O'Donnell's cavalry.

Rob assisted Ryan over to a makeshift infirmary where he sat on a supply crate while his knee was braced and tended to. Never losing his trademark confident smirk, he looked over his handiwork proudly, knowing fully that this situation would not have been possible without him and his team. Granted, it wasn't nearly as seamless as he drew up, but the fact that he was alive and inside Lord O'Donnell's territory once more gave him some much-needed consolation.

"Panther must apologize for doubting you, Ryan," the jungle cat said, outstretching a paw for Ryan to shake. "Going head-first into a Cornerian base of operations was not Panther's first idea of a successful mission, but even the best can be wrong once or twice."

"I don't take no for an answer," boasted Ryan.

"Wolf will be satisfied," Panther assured him with a pat on his shoulder. "Excellent work."

"Thank you," Ryan bowed his head gently. When his eyes rose, he was suddenly greeted with a blur of grey and orange before him. Austin and Michael, both out of breath and visibly peeved. "Well, well, well… I don't know the numbers, do I?"

As Austin opened his maw, Michael held his arm straight out and pointed at the wolf beside him. "Itwashisfaultnotmine," he belted out before dashing away; strands of shedding fur pluming in his wake. Austin's maw slowly shut afterwards.

"Austin…" Ryan started condescendingly.

"Look," Austin held his ground but seemed unsure of himself. "I had to do what I had to do."

"Mmmhmm," Ryan exaggerated nodding his head.

"We were getting rushed, so I threw Michael and myself off the railing and blew up the generator on the way down."

"Not fun getting rushed, now is it?"

Ignoring him, Austin resumed, "We got blocked into the access halls, so we started walking around them and tried to find a way out, but ever single hall looks exactly the same, so—"

"He got us lost," Michael said, head poking above one of the supply crates nearby.

"I got us lost," Austin conceded.

"I see," Ryan smirked. "And how's that, _mmmm_ , ten-minute timer looking?"

"I never said _I_ knew how time worked, I just asked you."

Ryan pursed his lips. "I'm not mad at you… but: I told you so."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear ya," Austin's ears fell as he sat on a crate next to Ryan. "I apologize."

"It's fine," Ryan nodded. "Unity holds no grudges. Just know that I may harass you at any given time for the foreseeable future as recompence."

"Which I wholeheartedly deserve," Austin finished. He soon looked over at Ryan and asked, "How _did_ you and Rob escape that?"

"By a heroic act of selfless unity," Ryan began, flicking his tail up with his chest. "I experienced a level of competition never before seen by Lylatian eyes. Cornered and outnumbered, I put myself in harm's way; facing the danger head-on. I was _beset_ on all sides by opportunists, and to the best of my knowledge I sent every single one of them. They sent me garbage and targeted me for deletion, but I would not be deterred. I stepped up to the challenge and faced them. After an eternity, I felt as though I had not even made a dent… Harvey or otherwise. However, the gravitational field of unity is stronger than such, as I valiantly erased each and every one of those opportunists. They had the audacity to step up to me during my hot streak and say, _I dare you, Ryan. I dare you_ … I pity them for succumbing to unity as they did."

Seconds later, Leon appeared behind Austin and butted in, "Actually, Panther and I removed the threat entirely. His verbiage may be superior, but his lies are horrendous."

Ryan frowned, "You know, there's something to be said about the cinematic appeal to events as opposed to a simple retelling. Just ask my friend Ron Ten Tomatoes."

Silence befell the group as engines perpetually filled the soundless void. Seconds ticked on into minutes as the group rested and recovered from their assignment.

"Has anyone heard from Nick?"

Ryan's eyes widened. "Oh."

"Do… you want me to go find him?" asked Austin.

"At the moment I couldn't trust you to find your own head," Ryan sighed. "Rob, can you go—"

Ryan cut himself off as an armored lupine emerged from a cloud of exhaust residue, storming towards their makeshift camp with determination. The lion recognized the figure and stood confidently, saluting the approaching figure appropriately.

"Lord O'Donnell!" exclaimed Ryan. "Welcome back to your reclaimed fortress! I admit, it was not an easy task to reclaim such a fortified base, but as I said before, you can always trust me to do the impossible when everyone else can't. Shall I divulge some of the most harrowing accounts of our vital campaign in a chronological—"

"Come with me," growled Wolf, snatching Ryan up by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away in a huff. Austin, Rob, and Michael looked at each other as their leader disappeared into the crowd of people without any fanfare.

And just like that, they returned to silence; tapping their boots, kneading their paws, and letting their eyes wander as the recapturing of Sargasso continued.

"You know…" Rob punctured the awkward silence. "You know what we didn't have?"

"What?" asked Austin.

"We never had an epic battle sequence," explained Rob, almost sounding dejected. "No full-scale battle, no space dogfight, no war of attrition, no dramatic climax… it just kinda happened."

Austin shrugged. "I don't mind."

"But, shouldn't this mission have ended on a better note? Like, we won, but it wasn't… you know, cool?"

"I guess you're right," Austin replied. "But, keep in mind, this probably isn't the last mission we'll be on. The last one will probably have a lot of buildup and crazy climax, no?"

"Well, but what if this was our last one?"

"I doubt it."


End file.
